


Memorial

by TammyCat



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: ANZAC Day, Grief/Mourning, Lost Love, M/M, Recovery, Tribute, War, memorial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-25
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 18:28:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1521008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyCat/pseuds/TammyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grieving is difficult for everyone and it can take finding others going through the same pain for the healing to begin.<br/>Inspired by the ANZAC Day Memorial Service.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorial

Jazz felt the road under his tires and focused on the warmth of the asphalt on the rubber. He counted the tiny little rocks he rolled over and the small dips where the ground had sunk underneath.

It wasn’t much but for the moment it allowed him to stop thinking of the heavy grief in his spark. The pain of Prowl’s death hadn’t yet eased and he feared it wouldn’t. After Unicron’s attack on Cybertron his attention had been locked on rebuilding the planet and re-establishing some kind of governing body.

Returning to Earth had been a blow, one that had shaken Jazz to the core. Not only had they lost Optimus Prime and Prowl but Ironhide and Ratchet too. The loss of so many high ranking bots had been a major blow to the fabric of the faction.

The new Prime, Rodimus, was doing his best to keep everything together and Jazz wanted to help but his spark had shattered once the news had sunk in. The moment his peds had touched the ground and he’d seen the space cruiser partially submerged in the lake he’d known. Prowl was gone. His Prowl was gone. His Sparkmate, soon to be Bondmate was gone.

The hollow feeling had yet to leave his chest.

Inside his body was the only creature he could stand to be around so far, a human strangely enough. Bumblebee had tried but his cheerfulness had been too much for him to handle. His friend had meant well but Jazz felt broken inside and needed time to heal.

Captain Amelia Fairbank was quiet as they cruised down the highway. It was still dark and the chill of the early morning was enough that he had turned on his heating system to make them both more comfortable.

She directed him through the curving streets of the city, his driving slowed as they encountered more and more cars. The amount of vehicles had nothing on the sheer mass of people moving in the same direction. Jazz was about to ask what the event that they were heading to was when she told him to stop and transform, they’d be walking the rest of the way.

Jazz frowned to himself, he really should have asked Rodimus more about this assignment but he’d just wanted to get away from Autobot City and all the memories it held. He thought back to what the new Prime had said.

_‘They have asked for a representative for this ceremony and I’d like you to go. Apparently Optimus or Prowl would attend previously.’_

Jazz couldn’t recall the rest of what was said; his spark had flared in pain at the mention of Prowl’s name. He’d just nodded and accepted his travel orders. It had crossed his mind during the flight that Rodimus just wanted his depressed aft off the base.

Captain Fairbank led them through the collection of humans to a spot that had been saved for him. He was across a small from a stone building, this one not like the others he’d seen on the way here. He crouched and allowed Fairbank to climb into his hand, depositing her on his shoulder. Jazz suspected he’d have questions and hoped the Captain would be able to educate him.

He looked around as the area between him and the building filled with humans, all of them wrapped up in layers of clothing to protect them from the frigid morning temperatures. Captain Fairbank shivered a little and Jazz redirected the air vent near her to blow out the air warmed by his internal systems.

“What’s happenin’ here?” He asked quietly.

She looked at him. “They didn’t tell you?”

Jazz couldn’t stop the expression of sadness from crossing his face. “I didn’ ask. Jus’ wanted ta get away from the base.”

Sympathy appeared briefly and she nodded, turning back to face the building. “It’s a memorial service for fallen soldiers. Today is the anniversary of a major battle during the First World War. Every year, all over Australia, they meet the dawn to remember those that didn’t make it back from war.”

Jazz’s optics grew wide behind his visor. Pain speared his spark and a shiver ran through his chassis. It was just the sort of thing he didn’t want to be at right now. A quick sensor sweep told him that he wouldn’t be able to step in any direction without squishing dozens of humans at the same time, they were all bunched closely together. Thousands and thousands of them.

Dawn was at least an hour away and he could see a set of official looking seats beginning to fill up. His spark pulsed rapidly, he wouldn’t be able to leave. He would have to watch the whole thing.

Locking the mechanics in his legs, Jazz settled in for what was sure to be a traumatic experience. His audios were picking up the sounds of people talking around him, some conversations coming through louder than others. They were stories mostly, about the lives of the men that had gone away to defend their country and never returned. The children and grandchildren of heroes, men and women they respected even though many had never met them. Only knowing their faces from photographs.

Jazz’s thoughts drifted to Prowl and his spark ached. He thought of his Prowler standing in the same position he was now, surrounded by all these humans as they paid their respects, watching as the faces of fallen soldiers were projected on the walls of the memorial. His lover would have done the same, thought of all the mecha they’d known over the vorns and how many had not made it to today. Probably never thought he’d be one of the lost.

A strained smiled stretched his lips. Actually Prowl probably had considered that his deactivation was a possibility. He may have stood here, thinking of his friends and known one day he’d be gone too. Grief well in his spark, a sharp edge that made his hands shake.

Every now and then the soft sounds of crying came through the predawn air, gentle words of consolation and the choked replies that someone’s husband or son would have appreciated the support. Oh, Primus, how he wished he didn’t know what that felt like. That tender tone of voice as they asked if he was okay and it would get better. The hands that held him as if he was made of glass and the looks he received when they didn’t know he was watching.

A man mounted the podium, taking his place at the microphone. His voice floated out over the mass, disturbingly loud in the hushed atmosphere. He thanked them all for attending, for showing the ‘Diggers’ such respect. He spoke of the courage of the men and women who had gone overseas to defend the rights and beliefs of those at home. Honours were given to the families left behind and the rest of the speech was lost in a buzz as Jazz’s spark broke all over again.

What wouldn’t he give to have Prowl standing next to him right now, holding his hand in a rare display of affection as they paid their respects not only their lost friends but the ones of the humans around them. His hand closed as if he could actually feel Prowl there.

Music brought his attention back to the service, his gaze searching out the lone player. The pipes cut through the air, poignant and clear, bringing up memories of the past and all the good times he’d had with those long gone.

A pair of men approached the memorial block, laying a wreath on top of it. They were followed by another, all of them dressed in what he recognized as formal military uniforms.

Another man took the podium, thanked them all again and announced it was time for the Last Post to be followed by two minutes silence then the Reveille.

Captain Fairbank stood carefully on his shoulder, her hand coming up in a salute as a bugle began playing. It was sad and brought a chill to Jazz’s backstrut, even in the section where it sped up his spark was filled with melancholy and grief. Prowl, Prime, Ratchet and Ironhide played through his thoughts. The faces and names of mechs he’d met along the way drifted through as well, their loss forever burned into his spark.

The bugle stopped and Jazz stared at the memorial where the wreaths lay. It was a beautiful way to remember their dead brethren, as the sun rose and minutely warmed the air around him Jazz found himself not hurting as bad as he had an hour earlier.

The bugle played again, this time more briskly and he felt his spark lift. Maybe Prowl had even smiled at this part, a ray of hope and sunlight to mark a new day.

Jazz let a smile lift his lips gently and turned his head to look at his guide. “Thanks, Captain. I’m glad I saw this.”

She smiled back at him. “From one soldier to another, moving forward can be hard but you’re not alone.”

 

 

It had taken three months but his plans were coming to fruition today.

The large slab of concrete had been delivered and set in place, standing waist-height to Jazz and inscribed with the most sparkfelt message he could think of.

With a collection of Autobots behind him Jazz picked up the wreath he ordered. Giant for a human but just the right size for his hands. The ring of red roses and black and white Calla lilies shivered with every step he took towards the monument. He had placed it near the bank of the lake where the ship had crashed. Golden-orange metal still glinted from the lake’s surface but the sight didn’t leave Jazz with such a terrible pain anymore. It would take time but eventually he’d be able to see it as part of the memorial and not just where Prowl and his friends died.

Jazz rested the wreath against the front of the stone and straightened to run a hand over the words so deeply etched that it would take hundreds of years of wind and rain to destroy them.

“I love ya, Prowler. I miss ya so bad and it hurts when I think o’ ya, but I know it’ll get easier and I’ll be able to think o’ ya an’ smile. I’ll come visit ya until then and beyond.” He cracked a small grin. “Right up to when ya meet me in the Well… I love ya.”

Jazz caressed the inscription one more time before stepping back and allowing the other Autobots to pay their respects.

_Those that we have lost will live forever in our sparks. Until all are One._

 

**Author's Note:**

> For all those who know and love someone who has served or is serving overseas. My Dad is a Navy officer and he stands every year at the Dawn Service. Respect for the service people worldwide.  
> Lest We Forget.
> 
> I cried several times while writing this...


End file.
